To tired to write I am all spent There are some battles Not worth a fight We think we are fortunate Then we feel sad When we count our blessings We get glad Life is no guarantee We have Guardian Angels protecting us Else we will be ground into Fine powder Finer than the finest tea Where are we going Why are we so fast It is only our moments That will last and last
On the one hand, it has the ordered, and of Neoclassical poetry. On the other hand, it tends toward the emotionalism and individualism of the poets; most importantly, Too ( not to) tired to write about nothingness - you mean empty soul - But you wrote substantially! A “Spent force” realises the futility of taking up unwon battles huge or tiny. A gladness follows sadness is ok. But then in life of everyone, it can’t be forever only sadness or gladness. They come in progressive waves. It is always parents who takes care of their children in an unselfish manner. They remain till their last breath as their children’s guardian angels. Dawn to dusk People sprint East to west To keep wolf away From the door West to east They Return In an ambulance Landing in hot Simmering soup. Instead of usual Romantic lines or stanzas, here you had posted something entirely different with “balanced phrasing” expressing a kind of rational sentiments mixed with rare Emotions. Thanks and Regards.
